A/N: Well Hello. It's been a while... anyhow I uploaded this on Deviantart a while ago, and have just now summoned up enough energy to actually getting around to putting it up here. So here it is. I guess. It was roughly inspired by Doctor Who... but in anycase I hope you'll enjoy it.

Hello and Goodbye:

November 1879

"I've finally found you!"
The voice startles him, whirls him around, and his eyes fall upon the tall figure before him, panting, blue eyes smiling, looking absolutely pleased with himself.

"…Do I know you?" He asks cautiously, peering through thick lenses at the older boy, not quite sure what to make of him. He could be anyone. A spy. A shadow.
He never knows what to expect.

The teen looks rather disappointed, and he frowns slightly as he takes a step forward, "You don't remember me?"

He meets a lot of people. People from all different backgrounds. Places. Times.

Enough to make one weary.

"Is that a threat?" He snaps back, drawing his cloak about him.

The stranger laughs, and offers his hand. "Never mind then. If you can't remember I'll forgive you." He pauses a moment that smiles. "I'm Elliot Nightray… and you are?"

Time. He doesn't have the time. He has worlds and cities to see.

Yet…

He reaches for the stranger's gentle looking hand slowly, and gingerly takes it in his own, shivering as their fingers brush.

"Leo." He murmurs, looking down, "I'm known as Leo."

He knows he will regret this.

He feels it in his gut.

1875

It's only supposed to be a minute.
A minute of reminiscence, a minute of stinging loss.
The square is bustling and busy as ever, the shoppers haggling with the obnoxious shopkeepers, children running around under foot, dragging along a worn looking nanny or elder sibling.
It's almost peaceful, and it makes his heart ache, as he compares this to the other sights he's seen. The villages of Rome. The cities of China.
But nothing can ever measure up to to the beauty of this world he's lost.

The space time manipulator is grasped firmly in his hand, and he's taking a deep breath, of the muggy air, calming his anxious nerves, when their eyes meet.

His breath catches.

It's as if a shock of electricity has raced down his spine.
He's stuck, paralyzed. Frozen to the spot, lost in an icy sea of blue.

It's all he can do to stare, trembling, as the boy looks straight back at him, silently, before crossing the square towards him.

He takes a step backwards, heart racing, he fumbles to push the button again, because no no no this can't be happening, but his fingers slip and the device topples to the ground.

No

He makes a move to grab it, half lunging, half stumbling, because he just can't afford to lose the only thing he has left. The only thing that's important.

Not this time.

***
March 1881

This couldn't be happening.
He sinks to his knees, the cuffs of his shirt stained with the blood of the assassins, as he drags the limp body of his lover towards him.
"Please be alive please…"
It had been too much.
All he wanted was peace.
Life. Love.
He wanted normality. Or some sense of it.
He'd forgotten he was a hindrance to some. A threat.
Always the weird one.
Normality had never been an option.
And now...
Now...
He'd ruined someone's life. Taken it, broken it…
And...
"Please…"
"I'm sorry…"
The words are garbled as they leave his mouth, as he strokes the pale, hair, closing, those blue eyes, brushing over that beauty mark, his slim nose, his mouth…
If he had known it would be so brief.
If he had known he would have sacrificed his own life for his…
He never should have loved this man.
Never.
***

"Watch it, scruffy!" A muffled voice exclaims, bringing him out of his brief panic, firm hands righting and steadying his wavering body, "You don't want to hurt yourself… I don't think."

Clutching his own head, he mutters a rushed apology, eyes still searching the ground desperately, trying not to make eye contact with the other male before him, but next thing he knows, those strong hands are within his own, warm, alive. Somehow bitter.

"You dropped something?" The boy asks, sounding amused, sliding the device into his open hands, "No wonder though- how can you even see behind those lenses?"

He chuckles a little darkly to himself, as he attempts to pull his hands away, but they're held fast, as those blue eyes meet his.

"Your name? If you're not going to thank me, you might as well let me know."

He falters. Right then and there, everything starts to crumble.

"You don't need to know, Elliot." He mutters almost to himself, "It's none of your concern."

He realizes it too late.

He's slipped up.

Blue eyes widen, and pale brows furrow in faint suspicion, that mouth curling down in confusion.

He focuses instead on that mark just below his right eye, unwaveringly focusing there, knowing if he meets the boy's eyes he will fall.

And he refuses to do so again.

He's promised himself.

Over and over again.

Because there's nothing he can change.

"How do you know my-"

"ELLIOT? Where are-"

Someone's searching for him. He has to take this opportunity.

Leave…

"I've got to go." He manages to choke out, making to turn away, but he's caught, like a fly, in a web, as those smooth, wonderful hands, grab his chin, jerking his head back his way.

"Who are y-"

"Elliot? Where has that boy gotten to…?"

Time is a fickle thing.

And as he recalls, there's never enough.

But he's here. Alive and warm before him…

He has to go.

"Hey… are you crying?"

But he's already turning to leave again, brushing off that hand at his jaw line, fighting back the regrets that will soon tear open those scars. But he can't know.

He must never know.

Not now.

Not ever.

No matter how much he wants to warn him.

Elliot can't know.

He can't know that in four years there'll be passionate kisses, and warm embraces. A bright future.

He can't know that in six, he'll be lying dead on the flagstones of his own courtyard.

And it's entirely his fault.

He sees that now.

Everything, everything was his fault.

He shouldn't have come here.

And he now that he knows the moment of that fatal mistake he can only hate himself all the more for it.

He's dashing through the crowd now, trying to create as much distance between the two of them as possible, the pain tearing him apart because he knows he was too too close…

As he finally presses the button on the manipulator, he sees those wild blue eyes yet again, searching the crowd frantically.

"You'll find me someday." The words taste bitter and sour and terribly lonely in his mouth.

Some day in the future. That one day in the past.

"Goodbye, Elliot Nightray."

He won't be seeing him again.

December 1880

It's warm. They're crouched beside the fireplace, sharing a blanket, watching the flickering flames, enjoying this warmth. This quiet.

But the quiet is broken by a murmur in his ear, as Elliot moves closer, pressing himself against his lover's side, "Leo…"
Leo huffs and turns towards him, "Yes?" He asks, perhaps a little more testily than needed. Yet Elliot just rolls his eyes.
"Do you… ever get tired of staying here?"
Leo isn't fazed. Elliot has asked this question time and time again in the last year, but the only answer he's ever been able to offer was a wry smile and a shrug.

"Restless maybe." He murmurs, as he looks down at his fingers, with a shrug, "But tired? No. Sometimes… sometimes it's nice to be needed. To stay in one place. To be missed."

He sighs and glances at the perplexed face of his companion and laughs, "Time… life… wandering… it's all very lonely if you have no one to share it with."

And companionship. He thinks, is good.

Worth experiencing.

Healthy even.

For, even if once can only experience it for one chime of the clock...

It will always be remembered.

A/N: Sorry for the extremely cheesy and anticlimactic ending. Or rather story.

Reviews are appreciated but not required.

Thanks for reading.